


and then there was only one bed (well. there were actually two, but we don't talk about that)

by Lineal



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: "theres only one bed but theres actually two and they just want cuddles", 5+1 Things, Like, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Pining, Sharing a Bed, Sleepy Cuddles, just where they end up after time skip, kinda manga spoilers, no editing we die like my braincells when i wrote this, so nothing big, thats it, thats the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:54:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28303401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lineal/pseuds/Lineal
Summary: Somehow,somehowit becomes a tradition for them. Training Camp is no longer complete without sharing a bed with the other and sleeping side by side....which, now that Atsumu actually thinks about it, is pretty weird.Oh well. That's why it's a tradition.OR five times Atsumu and Sakusa share a bed and one time they share a bed. and actually admit their feelings
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 27
Kudos: 609





	and then there was only one bed (well. there were actually two, but we don't talk about that)

**Author's Note:**

> yayyy two posts in one day lets goooo
> 
> so! guess whos fallen down the sakuatsu hole :)
> 
> hopefully i got their characters down!

**ONE**

The first time it happens, it’s a mistake— a horrible coincidence, an unfortunate turn of events, something that neither of them want and make a point of _very loudly telling each other and making it so the other boy has the most miserable time throughout what is supposed to be a peaceful night of sleep._

Call Atsumu petty, but he isn’t about to let his cold, uncovered feet go unavenged. 

He feels the light tugging on his final blanket before he sees it, and Atsumu turns with a scowl to face Sakusa, face maskless and scrunched up in what can only be described as disgust. “Omi-kun, I know bein’ given my attention is a blessing an’ all that, but I’d like ta _sleep,_ thank you very much.”

Sakusa shakes his head, finally pulling the blanket over himself successfully as soon as Atsumu’s distracted enough. “Wow, newsflash, _so am I,_ but _someone_ keeps stealing all the blankets.”

“So _I’m_ the one stealin’ it now?”

“They’re _mine_. Can’t you use your own?”

“’M hurt, Omi-Omi, haven’t ya ever heard of sharing?”

“Haven’t _you_ ever heard of keeping your disgusting germs off of other people’s belongings?” Sakusa shoots back and Atsumu lets out an indignant squawk.

“Hey, I’ll let ya know I took a shower _and_ washed my hands five times ‘cause of a certain _someone_ —.”

“Oh my god,” Osamu groans from across the room. “Shut up.”

Atsumu’s face is red. “Not my fault—.”

“Who was it that got us here in the first place?” Osamu retorts. “Don’t worry, ya said. I’ll draw the blue straw and we’ll get our own room, ya said. Tough luck, ain’t it—?”

“‘S not my fault the world hates me today.”

“If I recall correctly, you said this was going ta be _fun_.”

“I was _jokin’, jokin’!_ ”

“Well, then, _don’t joke about things like this_.”

“At least I didn’t _volunteer,_ ” Atsumu huffs. “Like Mr. Komori ‘Let’s Betray Everyone Who Trusts Me and Ruin Everyone’s Life’ Motoya over there—.”

“Hey, don’t bring Komori into this,” Sakusa snaps.

“Bring him into— he’s the one who _got_ us into this in the first place! I woulda been fine with someone else. Completely fine! But no! Guess who I’m stuck with.”

Komori laughs sheepishly, but doesn’t say anything else.

“I dunno,” Osamu drawls. “I think Komori and I are doing just fine over here.”

“That’s cause ya don’t hafta share a bed with Omi-Omi, you jerk. Why can’t we just share and the other two can have the other one?”

“We’re twins. They’re cousins. Scandalous.”

“What’s _not_ scandalous is me gettin’ an actually decent night of sleep.”

“Shut up, Tsumu.”

“Fuck you too.”

“G’night.”

There’s silence, and Atsumu begrudgingly rolls over so that he’s back to facing Sakusa.

It’s not even his fault that they’re stuck in this mess, so why should _he_ have to suffer because of it? If Atsumu had known that there weren’t enough rooms for all of them and that this is apparently an annual bonding tradition used to bully the first years— because there’s _no way_ this isn’t bullying— he would’ve just brought his own sleeping bag and blanket.

  
Or even better! He would have never come here in the first place.

But also… _volleyball._

He can’t believe something as stupid as this is going to ruin volleyball.

Atsumu takes a deep breath and opens his mouth when he realizes there’s a more pressing issue at hand right now. “I don’t have a blanket,” he admits quietly.

Sakusa blinks. “You don’t have a blanket.”

“Yeah, I don’t.”

“Miya, are you _stupid?_ ”

“And _this_ is where yer supposed ta offer me one, Omi-kun.”

“You’re actually stupid.”

Atsumu pauses for a few seconds, face heating up before he bites out a quiet, “please?”

“Hm? What was that?”

“Oh my fucking god— please? Can I have a blanket?”

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that. You’re gonna have to repeat it again.” Sakusa doesn’t exactly smile, but the corners of his lips quirk up slightly and smugly.

“Please just give me a blanket. I’m freezin’ here! Watch, I’m gonna die and it’s gonna be all yer—.” He’s interrupted by a blanket being thrown unceremoniously into his face. “Oh.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” Sakusa mutters before settling back down. “I don’t— wait, where are you going?”

Atsumu looks up at him, raising a brow in confusion as if the answer is obvious. “The floor? To, you know, sleep?”

“With _my_ blanket?”

“Well what else? Yer obviously not gonna get up.”

“Do you have any idea how _dirty_ the floor of a hotel is?” Sakusa says slowly. “My belongings are going nowhere near it.”

“Fine!” Atsumu throws his hands up, and then cringes when he gets shushed again. “Take yer blanket back, then. I can sleep without it. Not even that cold anyways…” He begins getting up but is stopped once again. “What?”

“No.”

“H— huh?”

“I said. No. You are _not_ sleeping on the ground,” Sakusa tells him sternly and pulls him down roughly by the arm.

“Wow, makes it sound like ya actually care about me.”

The ace narrows his eyes. “Knowing you, you’re gonna complain about having back pains tomorrow and insist on sleeping in the bed and I am _not_ letting someone who slept on the germ infested ground onto this bed. Got it?”

“Hey!”

“Understood?”

“Now listen here, ya—.”

_“Understood?”_

“...”

“...”

“...fine.”

“Good. Now go to sleep already.”

They roll over so that they’re both facing the opposite directions, and that should be the end of it, but Atsumu gets the sudden urge to be the one to get the last word in. “Ya don’t snore, do ya?”

“No. And you’d better not kick in your sleep.”

“Of course not! I am appalled—.”

“Goodnight, Miya.”

The next morning, neither of them talk about this again, and Atsumu is more than willing to forget how that was probably the best night of sleep he’s gotten in ages and how he had woken up to Sakusa hugging— that… that was hugging, _right?_ — him from behind, because, well—.

That’s just _weird_ , isn’t it?

**TWO**

It happens again in the middle of their second year and Atsumu wonders just how many gods he’s angered in his past lives for him to deserve this.

It starts off innocently enough. He and Sakusa end up sharing a room at training camp again, thankfully as roommates and not bedmates this time.

At least Atsumu has the privacy and space to deal with his racing heart and the obnoxiously loud thoughts racing through his brain.

It’s… it’s normal to feel nervous, right? Atsumu’s nervous about whether he’ll sleep well or not. He’s nervous about practice tomorrow, not the other boy on the other side of the room— no, why would he be nervous about Sakusa? That’s weird. And Atsumu isn't weird. 

At least he likes to think he isn’t.

There’s the sound of shifting and the shuffling of blankets, and Atsumu blinks. Sakusa’s probably just going to the bathroom or doing another round of obligatory disinfecting or something.

_He’s not going to come to Atsumu’s bed—_ that’s _weird_ and Atsumu’s not—.

Suddenly there’s a figure towering over him, and Atsumu stiffens. This is weird. This is really, really weird and he shouldn’t be feeling like this; he’s not—.

“Miya.”

“Weird— fuck— I mean, yeah?”

Sakusa furrows his brows. “...on my bed.”

“Huh?”

“There’s a stain. On my bed,” Sakusa repeats, louder this time, and Atsumu doesn’t have to look at him to know his face is all scrunched up again. “Move over.”

“Wha—.” Atsumu’s eyes snap open and a quick glance at the clock on the bedside table says that it’s almost one in the morning. “What d’ya mean, _move over?_ ”

“My sheets are stained with god knows what. I’m not sleeping on them.”

“So? ‘S just a stain!”

“Just a stain? Do you have any idea what could be on that?” Atsumu doesn’t answer and Sakusa nudges him with the pillow that he brought over. “Now move.”

Atsumu does not pout, but he refuses to move and sticks his tongue out instead.

Sakusa grimaces. “Miya, that’s disgusting.”

“Well, if I’m so disgusting, then don’t sleep in my bed.”

He seems to consider his choices with a contemplative hum before shaking his head and kicking Atsumu. “Move or I’ll tell everyone you snore in your sleep.”

“What— I do not!” Atsumu yelps, even as he scrambles to give Sakusa room.

“Uh huh.”

“Seriously!”

“Why are you such a child?”

“‘M older than ya! Who’s the child now, huh?”

Sakusa snorts, the closest to a laugh that Atsumu has ever heard from him, and suddenly time is frozen and they’re the only people left on earth because—.

_Oh my god, that was adorable, what—._

“Miya?”

Somehow, he manages to snap out of whatever daze he’s been put in, and Atsumu yelps. “Oh, yeah! G’night!”

He can feel Sakusa’s stare drilling into the back of his head, but Atsumu ignores it and soon, the other boy just shrugs and climbs under the blanket beside him.

A long stretch of silence follows, and then “good night, Miya,” and then even more silence, and soon, all Atsumu can hear is his own heavy breathing and the thumping of his heart.

“Omi-kun?” he whispers, almost quieter than the ticking of the clock in the background.

No reply. Atsumu shifts, craning his neck to see that Sakusa is already asleep, eyes closed and face peaceful, _beautiful_ , even. His hair is messy, and there’s a long eyelash on his cheek.

Atsumu nearly reaches out to brush it away before doing a complete 180 and flipping around to face the other way.

Hopefully Sakusa doesn’t hear him screaming. That’d be a pain to explain.

_“I was screaming ‘cause ya look like an angel when ya sleep and I get this feeling like I really, really wanna kiss ya—”_ yeah, not creepy. Totally. Not creepy at all.

Atsumu groans, running both hands through his own hair to occupy them and ends up messing it up in the process. Great.

He doesn’t know how much time passes, but just as his eyes are fluttering shut, there’s a slight tug on his shirt, a hand clinging to it from behind.

Atsumu’s breath hitches and his eyes fly open, but he refuses to look. 

Things go still for another moment, and suddenly there are _arms wrapping around his waist and—._

Is Sakusa— is Sakusa _nuzzling_ his neck?

Sakusa, who hates touch of any kind and going out without a mask on. Sakusa, who— or at least Atsumu is pretty sure— hates his guts with a passion and always vehemently refuses to even give him a high five because of how “filthy” he is. Sakusa, who Atsumu doesn’t dare look at now, now that they’re suddenly _cuddling,_ oh—.

Oh _fuck no_.

Atsumu’s brain melts and he doesn’t get a single blink of sleep that night.

*~*~*~*~*

Okay, maybe he dozes off at some point, seeing how Sakusa’s gone by the time he opens his eyes again, but Atsumu feels like he hasn’t slept in weeks.

  
It shows, and he gets benched.

_Absolutely great._

The curious looks don’t stop coming his way, and Atsumu wants to just melt into a puddle when the cause of all his pain and suffering doesn’t even spare him a glance in the passing.

_“Samu.”_

His brother, all the way back home, picks up his phone on the twelfth try and has the audacity to sound like he just woke up minutes before. “Tsumu? What is it? I swear, it better be an emergency…”

“It is,” Atsumu insists, lowering his volume when he notices others starning. “Samu. Samu, oh my god.”

“Hm?”

“I don’t think I’m as straight as I originally thought. Or like. Uh. At all, ya know.”

Osamu doesn’t speak for a long minute, and then there’s a deep sigh from the other end. “Goodbye, Tsumu.”

“Wait, ‘m having a crisis over—.”

He hangs up.

Atsumu nearly cries.

They never mention that night again, but somehow, _somehow_ , it ends up becoming a tradition. A messed up, stress inducing tradition, sure, but isn’t that how they all are?

Everytime they meet at training camp, he and Sakusa end up as roommates.

Everytime they end up as roommates, one of them comes up with some ridiculous excuse that results in sharing the bed. Again.

Which leads to even more hugs and cuddling, however one sided they might be— though one night, when he decided to be bolder than usual, he hugged back— and Atsumu losing at least five years off of his life every time.

And frankly, he doesn’t think his heart can take anymore of this.

**THREE**

The third time anything significant happens, they’re at a different training camp, without all the fancy rooms and courts.

Which also means no private rooms, with everyone spread out on the floor of the same one. Atsumu swears he doesn’t feel disappointed when he realizes that this means that he and Sakusa can’t sleep next to each other this time.

Maybe he does. But it’s not like it bothers him too much, okay?

...and maybe it does. But that’s beside the point.

Still, he can’t help but cling onto that little bit of hope that _something_ might happen.

It’s only a little bit, though. The others definitely don’t call him out for being restless the whole day, no, why would they?

*~*~*~*~*

Itachiyama’s Boys’ Volleyball Club spends the night in a separate room from Inarizaki’s.

Atsumu does _not_ sulk, but he’ll admit that the sudden downpour and crackling of thunder outside is an accurate representation of his mood.

“What’s wrong, Atsumu?” Kita finally asks as they’re rolling out their futons. “Are you feeling sick? I told you to take care of yourself, you know—.”

“I am, I am!” Atsumu waves his concerns off with a sheepish grin. “Just, uh, tired! Man, ‘m tired, ya know? Wanna sleep. Yeah, sleep. Oh. Sleep.”

Atsumu does _not_ sulk, but maybe he droops at the thought of a night at training camp spent without a warm body pressed up against his own.

It’s endearing. Really cute. Like really, really, _really_ , cute, and Atsumu has to physically smack himself whenever the thought comes up because _this_ is the guy that sprayed him in the face with disinfect last year like he was killing a roach and proceeded to smack him with the bottle when Atsumu got too close.

Kinda cute of him, though. Wait, _wait, no_ —.

“‘M fine, Kita-san,” he says instead of whatever’s going on in his head, and Kita gives him one last concerned glance before turning to whisper something to Aran.

Lightning booms outside and Atsumu sighs, pulling his covers over his head. Maybe he’ll actually get a decent, stress free night for once…

(Not that having Sakusa by his side wasn’t decent. Or nice. In fact, it was really nice. Like really, really nice. Like— oh, shut up—)

*~*~*~*~*

He doesn’t get a lot of sleep before there’s _something warm_ suddenly pressed up against him, suspiciously to another human, or maybe an animal, or maybe something that’s here to kill him, and Atsumu screams, flailing to get away.

Or at least, he tries to. Would have if there wasn’t a hand suddenly over his mouth, keeping him quiet.

Atsumu jerks back, kicking blindly until he hears a familiar voice cursing quietly. “Miya, calm down, it’s just me, oh my god—.”

  
He blinks. Sakusa is behind him again, wide awake and pressing his face into Atsumu’s back like he usually does when he’s supposed to be _asleep_.

His face is flushed, his grip trembling, and he’s looking anywhere but Atsumu’s face.

“Uh…”

“Shut up,” Sakusa grunts, pulling his hand away and reaching for a pack of wipes with a disgruntled expression on his face. 

“I’m not— Omi-Omi? Did we switch rooms, or…?”

“I was cold. And you’re literally a human heater, what do you think?”

Atsumu arches a brow. While the latter part is true, they’re in the middle of summer, and it’s sweltering outside despite the pouring rain.

Which, now that he’s paying attention, has somehow gotten even stronger in the past hour or so.

“Uh huh…”

“I’m not… I’m not afraid or anything,” Sakusa continues even though Atsumu has said nothing about it at all. “Not… I’m just—.”

There’s a flash outside and he flinches with a quiet almost-whimper. 

“You…” Atsumu blinks once. Then twice. And three times. “Yer scared of thunder?”

“I’m not,” Sakusa argues weakly and Atsumu grins.

“Aww, don’t worry, Omi-kun, I’ll be here ta protect ya,” he croons, ignoring how his heart flutters at the very thought that _Sakusa is scared of thunder, oh. He came to Atsumu because he’s scared. He—_.

“Oh, I’m in danger, then,” Sakusa retorts, though it’s muffled by Atsumu’s shirt.

_He’s a rude ass who may or may not hate Atsumu, right. Forgot about that._

“Listen here, there _lines_ and _lines_ of girls who would do anythin’ fer the great Miya Atsumu’s protection—.”

Sakusa shifts. “You’re the literal human embodiment of trash, who would want that?”

“Ya never know, some people might be into that,” Atsumu quips before he processes what he just said and his eyes widen. “Wait—.”

“You— you are _gross_ , Miya.”

“‘M not the one _cuddling_ with the gross man, Omi-kun.”

“I am not—,” Sakusa sputters, pulling away. “I am not _cuddling_ with you.”

“Really.”

“Yes, really. I’m, uh, using you as a human meat shield, okay?”

“My, how cruel.” And it’s so rare to see Sakusa’s composure completely destroyed that Atsumu can’t help but laugh a bit, much to said boy’s ire.

“You’re gonna wake someone—.”

“Don’t worry, ya can’t wake these guys up that easily. I think.”

“You think? Also this shirt better be clean—.”

“And what if it isn’t?”

A flat stare. “I am _this close_ to throwing you out the window.”

“Oh go back ta cowering from the rain.”

“I am not—.” Another boom sends Sakusa back to his previous position and Atsumu rolls his eyes.

“Hey, come on, ‘s not that scary.”

“Easy for you to say…”

“Really! Like just don’t pay attention to it and bam! It goes away.”

“Oh, like I can when it’s so _loud_ —.”

“Pay attention ta someth’n else then. Like my snoring— which I _don’t_ by the way— and soon ya won’t be able ta hear the storm at all!”

Sakusa furrows his brows before huffing and burying his face back into Atsumu’s shirt. “Fine. Keep talking then.”

“Huh? But the others’ll wake—.”

“Didn’t you just say they wouldn’t? Now hurry up.”

“Jerk,” Atsumu mutters before relenting. “Hm, what d’ya wanna hear?”

“Anything. Don’t care.”

“Then… wanna hear about that one time Samu and I got our Ma’s car stuck in a ditch three hours away from home and got chased out by this weird old lady livin’ by it?”

A pause. “I don’t even want to— _what_.”

“Well, it all started when…”

Hours pass, the storm getting gradually lighter with them, but Atsumu doesn’t stop spilling out every funny childhood story he can think of until he sees Sakusa’s eyes beginning to droop closed, slowly but surely.

“G’night to ya too,” he whispers softly, clapping his hands together as if slamming a storybook shut. 

“Don’t you dare tell anyone about tonight,” Sakusa mutters, his last words before sleep takes over.

Atsumu frowns. “I haven’t told anyone ‘bout the other nights either. Why’d I tell them ‘bout this one?”

The other boy is already sound asleep, though, so he’s met with silence.

His eyes might have twitched a little, but Atsumu just shrugs it off as his imagination.

The storm has completely stopped outside, and the sound of crickets fill the air as the sun begins peeking over the horizon.

*~*~*~*~*

Osamu kicks him under the table during breakfast.

“Ya said ya’d never tell anyone about that,” he grumbles, glaring. “And _you_ were the one who got the car stuck, _not me_.”

“Uh…”

“That _weird old lady_ was our _aunt_.”

“Fuck.”

“Also, what d’ya mean, _other nights?_ Kita-san wants to know too.”

Atsumu flicks his rice at him and bolts out of the cafeteria.

**FOUR**

The MSBY Black Jackals are an interesting bunch.

Interesting is an understatement. Atsumu swears that he can feel the last shreds of his sanity slipping away every second that he spends with his new teammates.

Well. Maybe not Sakusa. But Sakusa takes years and years off of Atsumu’s life, so he’s pretty sure that’s worse.

Much worse.

So much worse.

Anyway, what are the chances that they’d end up on the same team after highschool?

Low. Very low. But so are the chances of sharing a room, and by extension, bed, everytime training camp came around.

...which Atsumu should have expected to carry over to their current team’s frequent trips and hotel reservations too.

“Are you sure you showered?” Sakusa asks for the sixth time tonight, crinkling his nose and kicking Atsumu under the blanket. “If you haven’t, I swear—.”

“Yeah, yeah, I showered! Washed my hands! Brushed my teeth! Did the disinfect thing— kinda dumb, by the way. Geez.”

“Good.”

Their first game outside of Osaka. Their first messed up roommate experience of the season. 

  
An absolutely _splendid_ way to start the year, _really._

Atsumu scoffs when he remembers the look that Inunaki had given him after checking the room listings, wiggling his brows and all that. Atsumu had flipped him off in return, but that only earned him a scolding from Meian and Bokuto’s excited questions about the whole thing.

It’s not like Atsumu has any answers, either. They don’t talk about it at all and it doesn’t look like they’re going to start anytime soon.

He and Sakusa don’t need excuses anymore.

They just. Climb into the same bed. Say goodnight. Right next to each other.

Maybe they cuddle too. Who knows. Atsumu doesn’t.

Because it’s normal.

Yeah. Normal.

_This is normal, totally normal._

Oh, who’s he trying to fool?

“You’re pretty restless,” Sakusa notes, sounding irritated like always. “Thought you said you didn’t get pre game nerves.”

“‘M not!” Atsumu snaps, before realizing that Sakusa’s talking about their upcoming match and not… them. “Just you watch, I’ll crush Tobio-kun like he’s nothin’ tomorrow.”

“Don’t think for a second that I’m not holding your words against you.”

“Hey!”

“Still, don’t worry. We’re a strong team, you know?”

Silence. Atsumu gapes at him.

Did… is Sakusa trying to… _comfort_ him? 

Wait a minute, does he really think that Atsumu’s scared of that brat?

“I said I’m not—!”

“Goodnight, Miya.”

Usually their conversation would end here, but Atsumu’s feeling strangely bold today, probably spurred on by the fact that they’re no longer dumb highschoolers and he may or may not have a better understanding of what he’s doing.

(He doesn’t)

“Y’know, you can just call me Atsumu like everyone else does.”

Sakusa doesn’t say anything, probably already asleep, but Atsumu continues anyway. “I don’t wanna hafta think of Osamu every night ya call me Miya. ‘S not a nice thought.”

Still no reaction.

“‘Sides, we’re kinda past the point of callin’ each other by our last names, dontcha think?”

“I said goodnight already,” Sakusa murmurs, almost silent, yet there’s a bite to his voice that wasn’t there before.

Atsumu’s heart sinks. Oh. Was he being too creepy or something? Is Sakusa uncomfortable now? Does he want to sleep in his own bed?

...forever?

The thought shouldn’t affect him as much as it does, but look where he is now.

“Go to sleep,” Sakusa adds, softer, “Atsumu.”

Time freezes, like it did so long ago, and Atsumu is suddenly too aware of the presence lying next to him and the pitter patter of the rain outside, echoing the sounds that his heart is making.

...what?

“Atsumu.”

“Huh?”

There’s a ghost of a smile on Sakusa’s lips, nearly hidden by the darkness, and Atsumu gets a sudden urge to—.

No. _No, their relationship is nothing but platonic. Nothing but—._

“Sleep well.”

Atsumu Miya is a weak man. A weak, weak man.

*~*~*~*~*

The next morning, their positions have somehow been unconsciously rearranged overnight, as per usual.

Atsumu sighs, apparently lacking any shred of impulse control in the morning, and runs his fingers through Sakusa’s unfairly soft hair. “G’morning.”

Sakusa only hums in response, burying his face deeper into the crook of Atsumu’s neck. “What time is it?”

“A lil after five. We gotta head down soon.”

“Mhm… there’s still a bit of time left, Atsumu.”

Atsumu doesn’t swoon. But he has to admit that he comes dangerously close to doing so. “O— oh?”

“Comfy…” He really hopes Sakusa can’t hear how fast his heart is beating with how close he’s snuggling to Atsumu’s chest. “Just five more minutes…”

He’s adorable. So cute. How is it possible for someone like him to be so _cute?_

Atsumu gulps. Surely… a few more minutes won’t hurt… right?

*~*~*~*~*

“We’re late. Oh fuck, we’re late, we’re _so late—._ ”

“I get it already!” Sakusa hisses, slipping his arms through a jacket— which _of course_ , has to look infuriatingly good on him. “And anyway, whose fault is that?”

“Yers?”

“Yours!”

“That doesn’t make any sense!”

“Your _face_ doesn’t make any sense.”

They glower at each other for a bit before realizing that they don’t have anytime to be doing this, and continue getting ready in a whirlwind of indignant muttering and a litany of swears.

“Why’d they have ta send Bokuto?” Atsumu grumbles, sprinting to the door and hastily rubbing the handle with a disinfecting wipe. “ _Bokuto_ . Of all people, _Bokuto,_ especially when they think— oh never mind.”

“They hate us,” Sakusa deadpans. “Now hurry up.”

“I _am_.”

“Hurry faster then.”

“Wha—.”

“Guys,” Meian calls through the door, heavy and tired. “Can you _please_ just go eat breakfast now? We’re running out of time.”

“We’re comin’, we’re comin’!”

“Miya, get my tray for me.”

“Get yer own tray!”

Atsumu does, in fact, get Sakusa’s tray of food for him.

He continues calling him Miya, too, but it’s fine now. There’s something… _different_ about it now. Special, maybe, if Atsumu’s reading the situation correctly.

So they go about their daily routines like nothing happened last night; the same as usual.

“The Schweiden Adlers are going down,” Sakusa assures moments before they get off the bus, squeezing Atsumu’s hand lightly.

“Yeah,” Atsumu grins. “They are.”

**FIVE**

Sharing an apartment is one thing. Sharing a room in said apartment is another. _Sharing a bed in said room?_ Well—.

Atsumu swears it’s all just to save money.

_Really._

He sighs, flopping down on the sheetless bed while Sakusa paces around in the other room. The tumbling of the missing sheets in the washing machine can be heard from all the way on the other side of their small apartment. 

“So how’s settlin’ in goin’?” Osamu’s voice floats through the room from Atsumu’s phone. “Cleanin’?”

“Cleanin’,” Atsumu confirms tiredly. “Omi’s just finishin’ up with the sheets and then it’s off ta bed for us.”

“Uh huh…”

“What?”

“You guys are still… sleeping together?”

“Yeah? What ‘bout it? Saves money.”

He can almost see his brother’s unamused face in his mind. “Doesn’t yer apartment have two bedrooms?”

It does. “The other one’s a guest room.”

“Ya have _guests?_ ”

“Uhh. No? But just in case!”

“For the love of— what the fuck, Tsumu.” 

“Miya, get off the— oh. Phone?”

Atsumu sits up immediately, ignoring the sound of light snickering in his ear. “Oh! Done? Here, lemme help ya with that.”

“Don’t.” Sakusa uses his elbow to push Atsumu off of the bed. “You can just stand over there and watch. I’m not letting you get these dirty before they’re even on.”

“Yeah…” Osamu’s full on laughing now and Atsumu glares at his phone. “G’night, dear brother. Hope the bed bugs bite you in the ass tonight.”

He hangs up and Sakusa raises a brow, but doesn’t look up from his current task at hand. “Osamu?”

“Yeah, Osamu— wait, _what?_ ”

“What?”

“Ya call that guy Osamu and me Miya?” Atsumu nearly shrieks.

“I can’t call him Miya too,” Sakusa shrugs noncommittally. “You said it yourself, it’d be too confusing.”

“But… but… but I—.”

“Finished. Hurry up and go shower, I know you haven’t yet.”

“Well excuse you!”

But like always, Sakusa’s right about that too, and Atsumu stomps into the bathroom before realizing he didn’t grab a change of clothes and storming back in to get it and leaving again. 

“This is stupid,” he grumbles under his breath throughout the whole process. “Stupid Osamu. Stupid Omi. Stupid… stupid _whatever this is_.”

His annoyance has mellowed out by the time he finishes up, but it still spikes when he realizes that the room is dark and Sakusa’s probably already asleep.

Just _great._

“What, not even a g’night?” Atsumu calls despite not expecting an answer. “If ya wanted me ta sleep in the other room, then just say so.”

A pause. He takes a shaky breath and turns to leave, before—.

“Oh, just come to bed already, Atsumu. We have practice tomorrow.”

Atsumu doesn’t think he’s ever run to bed faster,

*~*~*~*~*

The night goes mostly well. 

Until it doesn’t.

One second Atsumu’s sleeping soundly, and then all of a sudden, there’s something running down his back gently.

It doesn’t take long for his sleep-addled brain to figure out that it’s Sakusa tracing shapes and patterns onto the back of his shirt with his finger.

Maybe Atsumu should talk to him about not making every night a scene straight out of a horror movie.

Just maybe. It’s not so bad, really, not too—.

“Atsumu.”

Atsumu likes to think that he has a pretty good control over his emotions. How else would he be able to hold back the scream threatening to spill out of his mouth?

“Atsumu,” Sakusa whispers again, daring to shake him a bit by the shoulders, but Atsumu squeezes his eyes shut and focuses on evening out his breathing instead of saying anything. “You asleep?”

Would a “yes” be convincing?

Oh, what is he thinking?

“Atsumu,” Sakusa continues, and for the first time in a while he doesn’t sound angry or constipated. Atsumu nearly shivers at the use of his name, but he manages to stop it. Or at least he hopes he does. “Atsumu.”

If he just pretends to be asleep, Sakusa’ll get tired and eventually stop, right—?

“I like you.”

What.

Sakusa shifts again so that they’re somehow even closer than before. “I like you, Atsumu. Even though you’re an idiot.”

_What the fuck._

“A really big idiot. My really big idiot. Oh— I mean—.”

Sakusa. What the fuck.

“Hey, are you awake?”

_He what?_

“Oh… I guess not…”

Sakusa…

_Wait, so does that mean—?_

_What???_

“Good night then, Atsumu.”

Atsumu only finds the courage to face him after a few hours have passed, and by then, Sakusa’s already asleep, like he didn’t just completely flip Atsumu’s whole world upside down.

Figures. That’s such a Sakusa thing of him to do.

Atsumu takes a deep breath. And then he screams, though maybe it’s just in his head because he really, _really_ doesn’t want to wake Sakusa up by accident.

_How is he even supposed to react to that?_

Atsumu doesn’t get any sleep for the rest of the night, and just like that time all those years ago, he’s forced to stay on the bench at practice the next day.

Sakusa never stops looking his way. Atsumu has never wanted to get swallowed up by a random hole in the ground more.

**PLUS ONE**

“So…” Atsumu says, drawing out the o sound casually. “Ya like me?”

Sakusa, wrapped up in his arms with no room for escape, freezes.

Real smooth, Atsumu. Real smooth.

He clears his throat, trying to ignore how his brain is screaming at him because _today is supposed to be the day you confess, not the day you make a complete fool of yourself and make Sakusa leave you, you idiot—._

_If I'm an idiot, then so are ya,_ Atsumu argues.

_Yer arguing with yer brain._

Point taken. But he wasn’t kidding when he said that the MSBY Black Jackals were draining away the last bits of his sanity at an alarmingly fast rate.

“What?” Sakusa breathes out shakily. “What’re you…?”

“Ya said ya like me?”

“I never—.” Sakusa’s eyes darken. “Wait, _you were awake?_ ”

Oh. Right. That’s what Atsumu forgot when he was making his foolproof, master plan.

“Uh… maybe?”

“You— you heard all that? Everything? Every single thing?”

“Look, Omi, I can explain—.”

He doesn’t get to explain himself, seeing how Sakusa takes that moment to slap him right across the cheek. “Ow! What was that for?”

“You just let me _say that_ and didn’t do anything?”

“What was I supposed to do? You woulda slapped me either way— which hurts, by the way, you asshole!”

“I would have kicked you last night.”

“How is that better?”

Sakusa frowns, sitting back with his arms crossed over his chest. “What’re you going to do, then? Laugh?”

“Oh. About that,” Atsumu scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. “I— I like you too?”

“Miya, if this is your idea of a joke—.”

“Why would I risk getting slapped again for a joke?”

Saksua mutters something unintelligible, looking anywhere but his face.

“Yeah. I like you,” Atsumu confesses again, awkwardly.

“Oh.”

Yeah, oh.

Both of them are bright red by the time Atsumu speaks again. “So… what now?”

“What do you mean, what now?”

“I brushed my teeth two times,” he blurts out. “Just. A suggestion, y’know. A suggestion. Yeah. That’s what this is.”

“Oh my god, you’re an idiot.”

“Hey! ‘M your idiot! Ya said so yerself.”

“Stop reminding me.”

“Yer idiot wants ya too kiss ‘im,'' Atsumu goes on, unperturbed. “Please?”

“Then get over here already, Atsumu.”

He smiles, laughter bubbling in his chest, and they meet in the middle, whole.

There’s the pitter patter of rain against the windows, lulling them to sleep, hand in hand, arm in arm, side by side.

Together.

(Atsumu really hopes that they actually talk about this tomorrow)

  
  
  


((They do))

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!!
> 
> this was written in two days, writing sakuatsu brain go brrr
> 
> Here is my [Discord](https://discord.gg/E8rnymG) and my [Tumblr](https://itslinsanity.tumblr.com/)!!!


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